Tales of the Temple
by Baldore
Summary: A collection of one-shots from an AU universe. As the Sith and Jedi fight over the galaxy, many scenes are shared between the many different players in the galaxy's game. (Short background summary of the setting now included)
1. Tale 1 Repression

Background; These Tales all take place in the 'Temple of Snow' universe. The basic premise of the universe is that after the Mandalorian Wars, there was another 'Great War' instead of the Jedi Civil War. It left the Jedi beaten down and barely hanging on to the point that they hid on Rhen Var for it's safety. The Sith Empire was also fractured somewhat, led by a Triumvirate but struggled to organize despite its great size. A Confederacy, that survived the major crippling/basic destruction of the Republic, also exists with a large force of its own, opposing both Jedi and Sith. The galaxy is mostly in disorder and times of strife. (Written as a multiple author effort in a forum of the same name as the verse)

Disclaimer; I don't own Star Wars or Vella/Kett.

**Tale 1; Repression**

* * *

Sen waited nervously on Vella. He hadn't seen the Jedi in a while. He knew it was for a training session but regardless, he was excited to see her and talk with her.

Which bothered him.

Why did he feel so strongly about her? It was. . . concerning. Sen shook his head. The Jedi simply stirred feelings that he could associate with. That was it.

Though Rilus had bluntly given his opinion on the subject.

Sen hadn't appreciated that.

Now he was waiting for 'Kett' as he wrestled with his emotions. He paced back and forth, to nervous to stand still.

He knew that he didn't feel romantically toward her. At least, he wouldn't admit it. Sure she was rather beautiful. And smart. More determined than he'd initially given her credit for. Certainly had a fiery spirit. And she seemed to know just what to say and look her olive orbs with his so be couldn't look away-

Kriff.

"Sen?"

_Kriff_.

"Jedi." Sen greeted formally, forcing himself to get it together. "How is your training going?"

The question nearly caught in his throat.

Vella was so different from when she'd arrived. He honestly didn't like the changes either. She held herself differently, treated everyone simultaneously as if they were a good friend and an enemy, was more determined. He hated it.

The first time he'd spoke to her, she was a lot simpler to talk to. She spoke her mind. She was set in her ways. Vella had seemed to have an...endearing stubbornness to her. It seemed gone now.

No, not gone. Shifted. She seemed to have another goal. But Vella didn't seem to want to talk to him now. When Sen had first actually gotten to converse with her, she'd been willing to open up and speak but now she seemed closed off to him.

He was watching her descent to the dark side. His stomach flipped as he looked at her. His own descent was filled with pain, agony, torture and suffering. Vella's had been the polar opposite.

He wasn't sure if the connection he'd thought they'd had was real or not. It seemed to be the second option though. Sen growled internally. What the kriff was he thinking?

"Sen, are you alright?"

The Vlahuir blinked, clearing his mind. Had she been talking? "I'm adequate, Jedi."

"You seemed to have spaced out," Vella replied, crossing her arms. She noted that she continued to address her as 'Jedi.' Was it a compliment or insult?

Kind title or satirical attack?

Though she felt the most likely reason was that he simply refused to see her as Sith. Restating Jedi to keep that in place. Or perhaps simply because it was her title. Former title? Vella wasn't sure herself.

Or Kett?

She wasnt sure which one she truly was. Which did she truly want to be? Or were both Jedi and Sith forced facades?

"Adequate isn't exactly a good answer," She managed while shifting through her internal musings.

"No. But it is how I'm doing." Sen countered.

"Hmph. And I thought you would have wanted to see me and help my training," Vella smiled. "Am I wrong?"

"You are. . . partially correct," Sen allowed with a sigh. She gave him a look and he realized he would have to elaborate. "I'm happy to see you. . ."

"Oh?" A cocky smile. Vella seemed to be in a rather good mood.

"However, I'm not sure if I'm pleased to see who you're trying to be." Sen said coldly, a twinge of sadness creeping into his tone.

"Oh." The smile faded. "Sen. . ."

"Let's just start the training," The assassin sighed, twirling his scythe off his back.

Vella scowled at his obvious brush off before drawing her own blade. The green light pulsed softly. She hadn't had the heart to change it yet.

She was snapped out of her thoughts though as Sen bolted coward. His weapon came careening toward her head.

Was he trying to kill her?!

She whipped her blade up, deflecting the malicious attack by mere hair of an inch. She'd fought him briefly during her capture and seen him training. He hadn't had such a viscous style before. He really didn't seem to be holding back at all. She knew the Sith used offensive based combat styles but Sen's form right now wasn't tapered by it's usually finesse. It was raw, unbridled lethality at it's highest.

She couldn't respond in kind, during all she could to fend it off. It wasn't long before her muscles ached and burned.

Sen simply let his anger guide his strokes. The scythe slashed in rapid cuts and hacks, his rage fueling him away from his flowing form. The red light from his blade left cruel curves as it whistled through the air.

His repressed emotions flowed to the surface. Fury, white hot fury through his veins, tempered by a deep hurt, pain shooting across his body, and topped by an emotion that he couldn't identify. One he wasn't sure he wanted to accept but wanted to deny even less. The attacks flowed harshly until finally they slowed and he stepped back, letting off.

"Impressive defense. . ." He managed coldly, emotions sizzling away. Sen had let his emotional guard down and was struggling.

The Vlahuir's eyes met the human's, both reflecting exertion and flickers of something more.

"Thank you for training." Vella breathed heavily, wiping sweat from her brow.

"That's enough for today. I think Anya would be pleased with what you've gleaned about my weapon," Sen stated. Though his real reason was he just wanted away. He wasn't sure how in control he was around Vella.

He turned for the door but felt a hand on his wrist.

"Sen, what's wrong?" Vella asked, more perceptive than he'd anticipated. "Something's bothering you."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Vella retorted, frowning. "Don't patronize me. What's wrong?"

"Fine, you want to know?" Sen half turned to make eye contact. His eyes flared. "You. You're the problem."

Vella's grip slackened in shock and he threw her hand off. "What? Why. . . ?"

"Because I don't know what I think of you!" Sen snapped, twirling to face her. "You've changed so much. You're not the same Jedi I captured and snuck in to speak to."

He kept going, ignoring her gesticulations that she was about to speak. "Mixed signals doesn't even begin to cover it. You claim to speak honestly to me but you clearly don't. You say one thing but then you're actions are the opposite. I warned you. You ignored me. Totally and completely."

The man's voice nearly cracked at that. "I don't even know what to think. Even if I could trust who you are, you're changing at such a rapid pace, I doubt that'd be true by tomorrow. You've let yourself be twisted, corrupted onto something that if you took a second to look at yourself, you'd be disgusted by. But maybe that's not true."

He paused.

"Maybe you're exactly you want to be, _Kett_," the name seemed to be bathed in venom and Sen spat it out like a bad taste. He hated it with every fiber of his being, hating what it stood for. "I let myself grow attached to you and you. . ."

A deep breath as he calmed, looking at Vella. She looked almost petrified.

But Sen didn't stop. He was finally being honest, with himself as well as her. "What you did with Tyriss. Anya. You stomped on your code, your dignity..."

"It feels like you stepped on me as well," The words delivered a lightsaber blow to both of their guts. "You're not the woman that I thought I cared for."

"Not anymore."

Dead silence.

Palpable pain.

Then Vella seemed to do a one eighty. "No, this isn't all me! I'm not the only one at fault here!"

She pressed her finger into his chest. "If you really cared, you would have done something! Anything! Requested to train me! Saved me from Tyriss. Done something. But instead you gave a few simple words. Words!"

"You just helped _security_!" She threw her arms angrily. "Security! Really helpful. You ignored me. What about escape? You could have easily arranged that! Or at least something besides one visit and some petty words."

"Sen, you've barely even called me by my name, dang it! You've criticized me!" She pressed her finger harder into his chest harder. "I've been alone and you've hardly alleviated that."

His back pressed into a wall as she continued. "You don't know me? I don't know myself! How do you think I've felt this time? You say you hate how I've been prevented but what have you done about it?!"

A pregnant pause as both persons mulled over the other's words.

"I'm sorry."

Both spoke at the same moment, raising heir gazes from the floor in surprise.

It seemed neither had expected the other to apologize. Then they both seemed to be slowly pulled toward each other. Their breath mingled as they rested their head against each-other.

Neither spoke, both simply enjoying the others touch. Then their fingers intertwined. Finally, they moved once, the silence and stillness being cut off by a chaste kiss.

Vella had leant forward, pressing their lips together, taking a kiss from Sen. They both seemed to be surprised by the action before that passed.

Then both seemed to have relaxed, a twinkle in their eyes as the reaction was repeated. Eyes closed, they both melted into bliss. For once, for the two troubled souls, things finally felt right.

The two finally parted, breathing heavily in each others arms as they sat. They rested peacefully there in silence, just enjoying each other. The moment of peace was rare and both savored it.

Finally, Sen's voice broke the illusion, barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry, Vella."

"Hmmm?" A frown creased her lips. They'd been over this, right? "Why?"

"I'm sorry for everything. For leaving you alone. For helping bring you into this. For this. Heck, I can't even promise what's coming next," The Sith couldn't meet her eyes. He didn't deserve her. "I can't make it up to you."

"Sen. Look at me." Vella smiled softly. "That's behind us. If you hadn't captured me, we wouldn't have met. And now, I have you."

"Vella, I-"

The Jedi cut him off with a kiss. She couldn't help but love Sen. He wasn't like the others. Yes, he had flaws. But he really cared. "No buts. We'll make it, okay? So stop wallowing."

Sen stared at her in wonder. She was so perfect. Even after all she'd been through, Vella was still perfect. "I love you." He breathed out.

The woman in his arms froze. Her body stiffened slightly. Vella had never been told that. She'd been treated like an item almost up till now. Tyriss trying to break her, putting her through different kinds of extravagant torture for her own ends. Anya, who seemed to care a but more but was still cold. Never really seeking to treat her as anything but a charge to be cared for. As a Jedi, love being forbidden. Her breathing caught and a small tear trickled out of her eyes. "Sen..."

"Vella, I'm sorry I didn't mean to," Sen's heart wrenched, misinterpreting her tears. He pulled her tighter, trying to comfort her.

The brunette gave a small laugh, amused by the Sith's awkward but well meaning actions. "No, I'm fine, Sen. That...I just was caught off guard. I love you too."

"Oh." Sen had no words but his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. The two had found solace in each other, peace, even love as they drifted off to sleep.

Things weren't problemless now but the galaxy was looking up.

* * *

Author's Note; So, I wrote this because it had been bothering me. Sorry to all of you who read this and didn't know what was going on, characters and AU verse a from a group I am a part of and I wanted to post the story. I might post some more one shots here though. This first story was titled 'Repression.' If you like Star Wars and/or my writing style, I have an ongoing story following a Jedi in the Mandalorian Wars so that might be worth checking out. Anyway, until next update, Baldore out.


	2. Tale 2 Teaching and Secrets

Disclaimer; I own only my characters and the story

Tale 2; Teaching and Secrets

* * *

"Master, I need to speak with you," One Akri Sordano requested, nervously smoothing his tan robes. Even the younglings had picked up on his antsy posture as he spoke to his master, one of the Jedi who had been observing the younglings train. It was one of the times that all the younglings were in the same place at once.

And His master was the one who had to oversee this particularly chaotic session.

Kinn Amos stroked his beard as he watched, no thinking anything of his padawan's request. He motioned with his hand. "Out with it then."

"It's a rather sensitive matter. I suggest that we do it outside of probing ears." The young blonde Jedi suggested, calming his nerves by tapping the cool steel of his lightsaber. "It's a. . . personal matter. . ."

"Very well. Meet me in the third training room after this class. I still must fulfill my duties here," Amos nodded, giving his padawan a smile before snapping back his eyes to the younglings. One of the girls was teasing a young Korun. "Leenah! Please leave young Ji-hui alone. You are supposed to sparring, not seeing how patient your peers truly are."

His tone was kind by firm as he delivered his admonishment and the girl nodded, locks of hair bouncing. She looked down at the floor as her squeaky voice carried to the master. "I'm sorry, Master."

"_I_ do not require an apology, young one." Amos pointed out, nodding to her sparring partner.

Lee paused and looked between the two for a second. Then she tapped the Korun on the shoulder. "Sorry, Ji-Ji. I didn't mean ta be mean."

Amos chuckled as the two friends made up and resumed sparring. His eyes resumed their watchful gaze, flicking around the room. One, Emma, was scolding her partner. Amos sighed. She was a handful. The girl was well meaning enough but she seemed to come off as a bit. . . forceful to the other students. Perhaps he'd have a talk with her later.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a scene that made him snort. His former Padawan had been cornered by two of the other younglings. Nikos and and a young Echani. . . Talnik? No, Talris. That was it. Akri seemed extremely uncomfy with the situation.

"Sworduno, look at my crystal! Isn't it pretty?" Talris' eyes glowed as she cupped the small crystal. Her eyes managed to stay fixated on it as she seemed to bounce up and down on her toes.

"Uh, it's actually Sordano." The knight responded awkwardly. "But it is very beautiful. Have you focused it?"

"Focused it. . . ?" The two younglings looked rather confused as they peered up at him.

Akri shot Amos a desperate look but got only a smile in response. The Knight needed to learn to teach sooner or later and Amos was already milling about, correcting the younglings form. He knelt down, shifting the saber of a young blue skinned Vlahuir. "Thana, keep your guard up. I know you like the more passive parts of being a Jedi but you still must be able to defend yourself."

"Y-yes, Master Kinn," She replied meekly, oddly using his first name instead of last to address him. The adjusted her glasses before grasping her blade again.

"And Fievella, the same goes for you," The master stated, addressing the other younglings. The young brunette nodded but didn't immediately change anything. Amos pokes her with his staff, jolting her her to fix her posture. "You're a Jedi, Kent! Keep your chin up, shoulders straight. Remember that and let the Force guide your strokes."

He patted them on the head before continuing, milling about at random and assisting the youngsters. The Jedi in training all showed promise. Wonderfully so. Finally, the next person came to relieve him and finish the younglings training for the day.

His fellow master Penn Reltu happened to be that. They exchanged a few words before he entrusted them into her loving care. He absently wondered if she was going to take a padawan soon. She had brought it up once or twice before. . .

Mulling over his thoughts, Amos made his way to the meeting place. His former padawan had seemed rather nervous. Which, given Akri's usual jovial and cocky nature, was unnerving. It was likely an important matter he wished to discuss.

Akri was already there when Amos arrived. The knight sat, looking at a piece of artwork on the wall. A depiction of a female Jedi standing against a tide of darkness, light pouring from her lightsaber.

"Akri, you wished to speak with me?" Amos said, clapping him on the back. It was unlike his old padawan to be so quiet. Something was certainly up.

"Ah, yes. Yes, I did." Akri was jumpy, contemplating how to tell his news. Finally, he just spat it out. "Amos. I got married."

The master's eyes went wide and he was silent in shock. He must've heard wrong. "When. . . did this occur?"

"Siona Chan, a Republic combat medic, and I worked together. We became smitten with one another. And well, we got married." Akri said, smiling at the memory. Her family had been there. He'd wanted to invite Amos but. . . "That was over two years ago."

Amos looked shell shocked. He'd known the two were close but not married. Force. "Why tell me now?"

"I wanted to earlier but I wished to remain a Jedi. I feared you would have me banished. I never wanted to keep this from you, Master," He took a breath of shame. "I. . . but then we had a son. Siona?"

A brunette woman entered the room, leading a young boy with white blonde hair and icy blue eyes. He looked intrigued by everything. Amis noted that he seemed to be the same age as the younglings.

"This is Baylar," Akri introduced, the young boy looking at Amos. "You're his Godfather."

"This is Amos?" The young boy squeaked. "He's got a beard."

"Master Amos, Honey." Simons smiled, ruffling his hair. "He's a Jedi like your daddy. He actually trained him."

"Oooooooooooooh." Bay's eyes stared in awe. Amos seemed like a hero in the boy's eyes. After all, he trained his dad to be one.

Amos felt guilty at the boy's gaze. Akri had broken the code. He'd be banished. Unless. . .

"Kinn, I just have one request. Please, keep this between us." Akri pleaded. "You know how much the Jedi mean to me. Siona's and my love isn't a weakness or ploy of the dark side. It's made me a better person, a better Jedi. Please, believe me."

The Master was silent. He'd known Akri for most of the young man's life. He would never turn. Amos sighed heavily, seeming older than he was for a second. "I shall keep this between us. I wish you had told me sooner though."

Akri hugged the older Jedi briefly. "Thank you, master! I won't let you down."

"Of course not. If you did, the council would be the least of your worries." Amis chuckled gruffly. "Now, Siona, Baylar, it best you stay quiet. It would be a disaster if this got out. It was nice to meet you."

"The pleasure was mine, Master Amos," Siona Sordano smiled with a small curtesy. Grabbing her son's hand, she coaxed him out the door.

Amos watched, unsure what to think. He'd have to meditate over his decision later. Akri then began to tell him a more detailed story of how all this had come to be, his master listening intently.

This was going to be a stressful, Amos decided. But, perhaps, Akri was right. Perhaps, the Code. . .

_Force_, he was getting to old for this.

* * *

Authors Note; So this started off as just Amos and Akri and then I included little Lee and it took off. And it was fun to write. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, ven though it slightly conflicts with stuff. Until next update, Baldore out!


	3. Tale 3 Rapture

Disclaimer; I only own my plots/characters.

Tale 4; **Rapture**

* * *

The Nebula Blade carefully navigated between several asteroids, before its pilot spotted his destination. A giant domed space station attached to two large astroids that also housed space stations. Rapture station.

As the old ship floated closer, two small fighter ships approached. The quickly got behind the Blade as its pilot's comlink went off. Baylar Sordano leant over and flicked it on to listen.

"Unidentified vessel, please identify yourself. Failure to do so will result with you being eliminated with extreme prejudice." The pilot paused for a second before adding. "That means we'll kill you."

"Yeah. I got that," Baylar deadpanned. "This is Agent Remulus Thorne of Mandalore's Fist." The mercenary didn't exactly want to broadcast that he was coming so he went with one of his more well known aliases.

"Oh, uh, you're cleared to land then, Agent Thorne," The pilot answered quickly as the two ships broke off. Something Bay loved about that aliases was how well known it was. And how out of proportion the stories had been twisted.

Smirking to himself, he followed the control officer's instructions to land at the nearest open port. He set down, leaving T7-B3 in charge of the ship. The little astromech was wonderful as acting security and handling all the little jobs around the ship while he was out.

As B3 whistled affirmation, Bay grabbed his pistols and stepped them to his belt, followed by the red lightsaber in his possession and snapped his comlink on. He wanted to travel a bit lighter so he forwent his rifle, armor, and his lightsaber, though the last one was partially because his current company weren't real fond of Jedi. Or Sith for that matter but they tended to give the latter a wide berth.

Walking down the ramp, he stretched, looking around. The docking bay was almost completely empty. There was a twi'lek awaiting him though by the doors of the area. She was dressed in such a manner that Bay suspected that she was a slave or indentured dancer.

His suspicions were all but confirmed as she bowed to him as he approached. "Greetings, Master Sordano. I hope your trip was a pleasant trip."

"Sordano?" Baylar lifted an eyebrow. How'd she know his real name, not his aliases?

"Ah yes, the Gamemaster said that you were to be addressed as Sordano." She said, hanging her head. The comment though explained a lot. The Gamemaster was the one running this station and he was sending Bay a message that he knew everything on his station.

"Well, then thank you for greeting me, Miss...?"

"Leeta. Leeta Tiruna." She said, still bowing her head. Baylar frowned.

"Alright, Leeta, now, I need to go see this Gamemaster. I don't suppose you can tell me where to find him?"

"Yes, he is in the center of the station, overlooking the arena."

"Thanks, I appreciate the help." He said handing her a stack of almost ten thousand credits.

"But-!" She started, looking at the credits with shock.

"Take 'em. Pay off your your debt or something," Bay shrugged before patting her shoulder and walking past her. It'd help her a lot more than it'd help him.

Besides, he needed to go see the Gamemaster.

* * *

Baylar slid through the crowd, keeping a lay profile. Though, it was fairly easy. Most of the crowd was either more suspicious than him, more of a lowlife than him, or completely enraptured in the fight commencing in the arena. It made passing through as simple as just not attracting attention through something stupid.

As he walked, he glanced down to the arena. And what he saw gave him pause.

In the arena, several large war droids circled a figure. The person seemed to be limping and panting heavily, watching the droids and keeping them in her sight. Several other broken droids, beasts and assorted other things lay in small heaps around the circular pit. The thing that drew Bay's eye though was her weapon.

A shimmering red lightsaber, held in a backhanded grip.

As he watched, one of the droids bolted forward, it's two allies covering it with blaster fire. Before he saw what happened, an aqualish bumped his shoulder and growled at him as he passed, snapping the merc out of his trance.

Shaking his head clear, he resumed his trek. Weaving in and out of the crowds, he quickly found himself outside of the heavily crowded areas. Several fancier pods, like VIP rooms for the ceiling of fights, lay before him and he made his way through them, ignoring the angered stares of the patrons.

Finally, he made it to his destination. Two guards stood on either side of a thick steel door. They raised their rifles as they approached. "What do you want?"

"Names Thorne. I'm here to see the Gamemaster." Bay said simply, waving his hands in a 'calm down' gesture. "He's expecting me."

"He's not expecting no one," The guard stated, spitting at his feet. Bay resisted the urge to point out that if he wasn't expecting no one, than wouldn't be be expecting somebody? "So shoo. Unless you wanna be today's target practice."

"What is with you people here and rude greetings?"Bay sighed, his hand falling to his side, grasping the hilt of his lightsaber. It slid free of his belt and the sinister red blade sprang to life. As he did so, both guards took a step back and tightened their trips on their guns.

"You're a sith?" One asked, swallowing.

"No." He twirled the blade, leveling it at the guard's throat. "I /killed/ a sith. Now, I believe I had an appointment?"

"Y-yeah, you had an appointment." Saber throat answered, pressing a button. The massive door slid open and the guards stepped aside. Bay nodded his thanks and returned his blade to hike belt, calmly walking through.

The door slid shut behind him as he looked around. The room was plush. Red and silver carpets and furniture pervaded the area. The lighting was dim, almost annoyingly so. One wall was actually a massive window, giving an unchallenged veins of the arena below. Despite the lavish furnishings, it was quiet, save a gentle melody drifting from an unseen speaker.

In front of the window sat an enormous desk, housing the only figure in the room.

"Mister Sordano. You're late." He stated, a tired lilt tinting his voice.

"Sorry, your goons slowed me down." Baylar snorted, walking over to the window. "What do you want?"

The Gamemaster smiled. He'd known that Sordano was always to the point. And predictable, he'd been easy enough to lure here. Some people, or certain groups for that matter, simply acted in a perfectly set pattern. "It's quite simple," The man said, leaning forward. "I have a job for you."

Baylar looked out the window. The sith had dispatched two droids and was working on the third. "Impressive," he murmured, before looking back at the man. "I do a lot of jobs. Why would I do one for you?"

"Because I know you, Mister Sordano. I've done my homework." The Gamemaster commented lazily, taking a sip of a drink that sat on his desk. "You'll be interested in my offer."

"Unlikely." Bay had turned back to the window. "You don't know me."

"I disagree. Your aliases include Remulus Thorne, Ibius Munk, and Aconm. You are responsible for the Shadowshot job. Your main contractor is an Enforcer on Nar Shaddaa." He paused, as Bay ignored him. Then sighed and continued. "You were raised by a Wookiee named Geynik and a Twi'lek named Zii. You've spent the past while helping the Jedi on Rhen Var. You had a serious spice addiction during and undercover mission. You-"

"I get it." Baylar tensed. "I'm not interested though."

"Hear me out. All I need you to do is take care of an Imperial by the Name of Rasin Veran." The Gamemaster stated. "He's a slaver, a Sith, a spice trader. The kind of person you hate."

"Sounds like you. Why do you want him dead?"

"He's encroaching on my territory. And before you ask, I need you to do it because I want it to be clear that I am not to be crossed." The Gamemaster pressed a button, letting two Ackalays into the arena below.

"Fine. But in return, I want two things. First, my usual pay."

"Done. The second?"

"I want you to release the slave currently in the arena to my care." Bay said simply. Something about the figure...and it would tick off the Gamemaster.

"No. She is entertaining to view." The Gamemaster denied instantly. Then calmly took another sip of his drink as if he wasn't discussing the life of another person. Or just didn't care.

"Then how about a wager?" Bay offered after a second, watching the Sith barely avoid being impaled by one of the Ackalays.

"I'm listening."

"If she dies this round, I'll do the job for free. Kriff, I'll throw in the thirty thousand credits worth of Spice I have on the Blade." Bay proposed.

"And if she lives?"

"I'll still give the Spice and throw in some credits as payment for the slave."

"..." The Gamemaster was silent for several long seconds, watching as the sith was backed into a corner. Finally, he smiled. "Deal."

Baylar tossed a stack of credits on the desk as he felt a ripple in the air. Glancing at the Arena, he watched the Sith counter. She seemed to snap, tearing forward and slicing the first Ackalay into ribbons before roaring, roaring!, at the other and then treated it the same as its brethren. Baylar sighed in relief.

"The Spice'll be in Bay 46. Send some men in two hours for the trade." Bay smirked as he walked out.

* * *

Two hours later, Baylar declined against a wall. His foot rested on the Spice crate and he twirled his blaster in his right hand. He would twirl it before snapping it into his palm then repeating. Finally, the doors to the docking bay opened.

Two of Rapture's guards walked in, escorting an Echani. She was beaten, several cuts and bruises permeating her features and walked with a slight limp. Her hair was in disarray, hanging over her eyes. Both arms were bound behind her in thick full forearm binding shackles. A shock collar was fastened firmly to her neck.

"Got enough restraints?" Bay taunted, kicking the spice box over to the guards.

"No." One said, checking the contents of the box. "We had two more when we left."

"Oh," Bay arched an eyebrow. He walked over to the Echani, taking a softer tone. "Hey, I'm-"

He never finished. Before he could react, she kicked him in the chest, spun, and brought her fists down on his head. As he fell to one knee, he heard her shock collar go off and her yell. Panting heavily he got to his feet.

"Here. You'll need it." One of the guards tossed him the control for her collar. "And good luck."

"Yeah, yeah. I probably should have expected that," Bay grumbled, catching the small device and rubbing his head. He looked at it. Normally, he hated the things but he might be maimed if he loosed the Echani now.

He met her eyes for a second, shocked by their fierce pink hue. She didn't attack this time, just waited.

"What have I gotten myself into?" The merc grumbled, pocketing the key. He looked at her, once more. "So, what's your name?"

"Reaine." Reaine growled.

"Baylar." He replied, looking her over. "Alright, now let's get you cleaned up, no?"

* * *

Author's Note; Just something that's been cooking in my head. I had the station in mind and the Reiane/Bay meeting cropped in so I thought it'd be fun to right. It all just kinda fit perfectly into place.


	4. Tale 4 It's Complicated

Disclaimer; I only own my plot, characters, etc.

**Tale 4**; It's complicated

* * *

Baylar Sordano sat in his pilot's chair, starring deftly out the viewport. He watched the darkness, pinpricks of stars, the glow of the planet below but never really took any of it in. His mind was cluttered as it was.

The recent mission was of course the cause. He'd been working with the Jedi for a while now. Despite his past jobs for both sides, they'd offered him a nice sum and some degree of trust. Sure, the missions were deadly and the risk of not coming back seemed bigger each time but that wasn't the problem. He could handle that. He was used to that.

Heck, he even got along well enough with the Jedi.

He pressed a button, showing the cargo hold. Inside, it displayed a young white haired girl, early teens. She was busy with several small training probes, gripping her bow. Bay watched as she carefully stalked the three probes, deflecting any attacks with her beskar bow as ah circled. After several seconds, she twirled, leaping and twisting as she fired her weapon three times in quick succession.

All three droids lay deactivated by the time she landed on her feet.

Baylar shook his head slightly at the sight, shutting the monitor off as he reclined in the chair again. Despite witnessing Basil perform feats like that...the mercenary still had a soft, protective spot for the young clone. Like an instinctive urge to keep her out of danger, keep her safe despite all logic.

It wasn't even exactly that she couldn't handle herself. He could see that. Of course, that wasn't to say that he didn't worry about that but...it wasn't the forefront thought.

"Baylar, you let down your guard. That is unlike you. Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing's wrong," The mercenary reassured. He leant back in his chair, swiveling to look at Basil. "I was just thinking. I guess I got a bit carried away. So how was your training?"

"You are attempting to deflect my question." Basil noted, cocking her head. "But it went well. I though I would like a live enemy to practice on."

"Uh-uh." Bay shook his head. "I still can't feel my arm from this morning's little sparring session."

"You did say any means." Basil reminded him.

"I didn't mean to hide a shock stick and hit me with it," He sighed, puffing out a plume of air. "The 'hand to hand' training rule trumps the 'any means' rules."

"Noted for future reference." Basil sighed. "However, I do wish to discuss something with you."

"Oh?" Bay turned to fiddle with the Blade's console. He had an idea of what she wanted to talk about. And he would rather not.

"I wish to a more active role during missions," Basil announced, staring at the mercenary. "I can contribute more to the missions and I wish to be an important part of the team."

Bay skid further down his chair. He ran a hand through his hair. He didn't want to talk about this. "Basil, we've talked about this. We need you in a support role."

"Incorrect. Anytime I have attempted to address the subject, you have deflected the subject with use of sarcasm." Basil's tone remained level but he knew she wasn't happy with him. "You have not listened to my arguments on the manner."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I am perfectly capable of handling myself. I have training from you and Talris is basic Echani, Mandalorian and alternative fighting. I have received basic training from the Jedi, in addition to my Sith training and Flash training."

"And most of that is basic. What if you had to fight a Sith?"

"I have a wide range of skills that I am competent with. And I would not be alone in a fight anyway."

"What if you were separated?"

"That is why I should stay with the group."

"You're best suited for support and infiltration."

"I am capable of other roles as well. Stealth and Infiltration is my specialty and you do not allow me to do that anyway, yet."

Baylar looked at her. How long had she planned this for? "Basil, I just don't want to see you hurt."

"I am aware. You do not display the same concern for Talris or Ji-Hui, who are in the same situations." The girl paused, adjusting her hair out of her eyes. "Is there something else that is a problem?"

"Talris and Ji-hui are different. They're. . ." Baylar floundered for words.

"If you mean to say that they are trained for combat, I am as well," Basil reaffirmed.

"No, they're. . . they're used to it," The merc finally said. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Them, myself, Wulf, Davrel, Adot, Aaron, we're all used to it. Violence is a part of what we do. Maybe even of who we are. It's something common now to the point. . . to the point that we might even need it, expect it. Almost an addiction, I guess. I hate it."

"I don't like simply going from mission to mission, op to op, taking more lives than I seem to help. I say it's for the money, or the people but..." He didn't look at Basil. "I don't know how true that is. I don't want that for you. I don't know what the Sith did to you when they cloned whoever, I don't want you dying, I don't want you to become like the others. I don't want you having a more active part of the missions."

Silence.

"I will consider you're words." Basil finally broke the deadlock of quiet.

"Yeah? Good to hear," Baylar nodded tiredly as she walked out. Once alone, he sighed again. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered. Then he cracked his fingers and turned back to the navcomputer. Time for another mission

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Author's Note; A little dip into the mind of everyone's (Or at least my) favorite mercenary. I try to write him with dimensions and I think this is a good way of showing it. Anyway, thanks for reading and until next time, Baldore out!

PS. Planning to add a short intro to the universe on the first Tale, just for those who have no idea what's going on.


End file.
